Selina
by Satine16
Summary: The following story contains the complete account of how Selina Kyle lost the first eight of her nine lives. Please Review. Ch 8 up!
1. One to Jack

Title: Selina

By: Satine16

Disclaimer: None of the characters in the following story belong to me. They are all property of DC comics. I am not doing this for money so please do not sue me! 

Chapter 1: One to Jack…

The screeching of the tires wailed through the parking garage as a sleek black pump jammed the accelerator of the black Jaguar. Going 60mph through the mess of cars and cement pillars it started weaving its way to the exit. There were no scratches on the body as the roaring machine sped into the dark night air. Every turn had been expertly completed, each skid mark ended in perfect time, and each acceleration applied in faultless rhythm. The escape was completed with the tenacity and flair of a fine tuned artist.

Three Hours Earlier…

The night sky was perfectly velvet blue and the array of stars speckled the heavens like diamonds. Although no one, who was anyone, in Gotham City would see them shine that night.

Jonathan Richard Ludlow, Jack to those lucky enough, was the owner of a major chemical weapons corporation, JRL Industries, and one of the richest men in the city. At the age of twenty-one he signed his first contract, and business had been booming ever since. Now, a decade later, he was the forth-richest man in Gotham. To celebrate his successes he claimed the responsibilities of throwing an annual Black and White Ball to benefit an array of Gotham's finest charities. His parties were madly successful, and this was his fifth year throwing the bash. It would also be his last. Bruce Wayne offered to host the gala next year and, surely enough, the board gladly awarded him the honor. The idea that a man six years his junior could have ten times the money, twenty times the publicity, and one hundred times the appeal made Jack's blood boil. There was no one in Gotham Jack hated more than Bruce Wayne. All he needed was enough to dethrone the golden boy, and he would do it. He'd been fighting what appeared to be a losing battle this long.

And so the glitterati came. They arrived with their silver and gold invitations, and were welcomed by the flash bulbs and the blinding lights of the mansion. Jack elected to host his final blast at his home: completely in control and completely over the top. He stood in his main foyer welcoming the guests with a firm handshake and bright smile. Nothing could beat the connections one could make at a Gotham City charity fundraiser. Just as Jack began to shake hands with the mayor he could hear the press erupt outside. He was here.

Surely enough, moments later Bruce Wayne walked in with the lovely, trendy new "it" girl, Vicki Vale, on his arm. Vicki had recently transcended the news world and become the celebrity and gossip girl for all of Gotham, rocketing her fame skyward. Bruce was obviously a fantastic catch for her image, appeal and column.

"Good evening, Bruce. How've you been?" Jack's phony smile quickly cemented on his face as he took his contender's hand.

"Great, Jack yourself?" Bruce was not only the richest man in the city, but by some cruel act of injustice he was also the most handsome.

Jack was about 5'11" with thin, dirty blonde hair, grey eyes, and leathery skin, which, from reckless tanning, wrinkled before its time. He had expensive porcelain veneers to replace what a childhood without braces had destroyed and a thin build which he had inherited from his mother. No matter how hard he tried he was always a little wiry and looked a little out of place in his expensive suits and tuxedos.

Bruce on the other hand always looked like a billion dollars. He was 6'2", with broad shoulders and a solid build. In tuxedos he always commanded one's attention. He had perfect bone structure: high cheek bones, a straight nose and strong jaw. To top it off his lips were perfectly full and perfectly pink and he had a thick head of jet-black hair. He was built like his eternally loved father, Dr. Thomas Wayne. A man all of Gotham revered in life and idolized in death. What Jack didn't know was that Bruce had his mother Martha's radiant blue eyes. They were strong but vulnerable, and to any woman, eternally captivating. Bruce's face was perfect except for the few lines of wear and early age, which had come from the traumas his life had offered. Although, as Jack's last girlfriend clarified, his story only made him mysterious and sexy on a deeper level. She also told Jack she thought he had a homoerotic attraction to Bruce Wayne. The nerve of her. She was found dead in her apartment two weeks after her misguided remark.

"Never better, Bruce. How's business?"

"Booming, Jack. Constantly booming."

"Bruce here doesn't sleep enough," Vicki's syrupy voice cut in.

"Oh, Jack, I'm sorry. Do you know…"

"Vicki Vale. Of course I know of her. Pleasure to finally meet you Ms. Vale," Jack took her gloved hand in his own and raised it to his thin lips.

Vicki was an oversexed and ridiculously attractive redhead. She had gracious curves and a lovely face. Most importantly, she understood her sex appeal, and oozed just the right amount of elegant lady mixed with insatiable vixen. She wore a magnificent diamond necklace around her slender neck, which trickled into her eye -popping cleavage. Her dress was white silk, with a sweetheart neckline and slit to the tip top of her thigh. Her arms were draped with white, silk, elbow length gloves and diamonds frosted her left wrist. Vicki's skin was perfectly tan: the rich color of coffee and the perfect amount of cream and her makeup was flawless. Her wide, round blue eyes, and full lips would hypnotize any man. It was clear Vicki new how to highlight her assets. Jack wondered what it would be like to fuck her. He would probably ask her to leave her strappy, silver stilettos and her diamonds on.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Ludlow. A girl who knows the richest men in Gotham is pretty lucky, I'd say."

"And on the arm of Bruce Wayne no less. Ms. Vale…Can I call you Vicki? Vicki, this evening might just be everything you've ever dreamed," a woman's voice cut in from behind Vicki and Bruce. It was soft and sharp, with distinct pronunciation.

Selina Kyle had just entered the ball. Her platinum blonde hair cascaded down her back and shoulders and she stood in an inky black dress. The neckline was a high boat neck, which eased into a pair of long sleeves. Her shiny black pumps were visible beneath her endless black skirt, the train of which Selina had hooked onto her left hand. Her large, green, cat eyes were lined perfectly with dark fringe and black liner: a throwback to the 1960's. Her perfectly shaped mouth was lined and colored with a deep red lipstick adding to her dressed down, retro appeal. The dark colors of her attire blazed against her complexion. Selina was in everyway the opposite of Vicki: her rock hard, lean form was subtly sexy, as opposed to Vicki's blatant display of femininity.

"Ms. Kyle…" Jack's welcoming tone was offered.

"Selina…" Bruce merely exhaled her name. The last time the two had spoken was six months ago, before Selina left for Metropolis.

"Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle are on a first name basis?" Jack spat under his breath.

"Where've you been?" Vicki whispered sardonically in his ear. "They were quite entangled before she up and left for Metropolis. Ms. Kyle," Vicki raised her voice and lifted her eyes to meet Selina's, "I see you came alone."

"Don't people like you always say that it's never who you take with you, all that matters is who you take home?" Selina arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow. "So, how long ago did you give up writing the real news?"

"Selina," Bruce's tone was firm but pleading. He knew just how vicious Selina could be, and Vicki didn't deserve it.

"Sorry, Bruce. I won't start any fights," Selina glided past the three and headed towards the ballroom. Once she slipped by it was clear to them that her dress was completely backless, cut in the shape of a V from her shoulder blades and diving to a dangerously low point at the bottom. She turned her head over her shoulder, and her distinct profile had been clearly outlined: her small pixie nose slightly turned up. "Don't be a stranger, Bruce." With that she slipped into the crowd, and Vicki took his arm and pulled him in the other direction.

Bruce took one last, quick glance over to where Selina had been standing but she was lost to the crowd and Jack was now greeting his latest arrival. Before completely comprehending anything that had happened: Selina's new entrance, and, well, Selina in general, and Vicki, and Jack, and the ball, he was shaking the Mayor's hand.

Two hours later the party was in full swing. Magicians were occupying the main hall, professional dancers interspersed, twirled and spun along with dancing guests in the ballroom, dining and drinking were saved for the immense dining room. Jack had orchestrated an abundance of pleasures for Gotham's finest. Vicki was deep in conversation with the Mayor, his wife and newly rising movie star Jasmine Harrison. Bruce had excused himself to find the restroom, and instead found himself observing the guests as he traveled room to room.

As he made his way through the people, he smiled to himself. The lifestyle of Gotham's finest never ceased to amaze. Without any warning, he was suddenly grabbed by the wrist and pulled into an unpopulated hallway. Selina Kyle pressed her index finger to her lips; her perfectly manicured red nails flawlessly matched her lipstick.

"I told you not to be a stranger, Bruce."

"Selina…"

"Don't. I'm going upstairs to find a ladies, which isn't overflowing with gossipy, annoying females, going on about you. Then I'm leaving. I simply wanted to say a proper goodbye," just then she leaned in and kissed him. Her lips were pliable and supple, just as he remembered them. She kissed him deeply, running her fingernails in his collar and over the buttons in his shirt. "Goodnight, Bruce."

With a small smirk, Selina headed up the stairs. She watched Bruce over her shoulder as she ascended. The expression on his face was a priceless one of befuddlement and enjoyment. Had Selina been more careful, she would have noticed Jack Ludlow watching her climb his winding staircase.

Jack stood at the opposite end of the extensive staircase, grasping the banister in a strained fist. He ground his teeth back and forth slowly, and felt for the gun in his right breast pocket. Once Selina had slipped down the hallway, Jack began to follow her.

Selina, being the expert criminal, quickly sped down the hall to Jack's office. She had memorized the layout earlier, so as to cut down on her time in the office and speed up her flight from the party. Brushing the hair from her eyes, she picked the lock and headed into the office. Checking the hall again for unwelcome eyes, she slipped in and closed the door behind her. Jack made it upstairs in time to see the door shut.

In two steps Selina was across the room. She quickly hacked into his computer system: it was easy to guess the passwords of men with egos. In no time her zip drive was accepting the files she needed. Her pale face was bathed in the glow of the computer screen for only ten minutes, by then she had all she needed and closed the laptop. Selina slipped her zip drive back into her garter, next to her flat dagger, and headed towards the vault.

Jack Ludlow's vault was hidden behind a picture of DaVinci's Vitruvian Man. As she removed the picture, the red carpet squished under his shiny black shoes outside the door. Slowly he removed the gun from his pocket. Selina reached the second of three digits of the vault. The locks cracked open as Jack turned the door handle.

"Game's over, Beautiful," Jack's voice pierced the silence as Selina closed the vault.

"You don't scare me, Ludlow. Your gun certainly doesn't."

"It should. Now I need you to return what you've just taken."

"There's no chance in hell, Jack," Selina began to back up. Her only chance at salvation was through one of the two picture windows in Jack's office. The rest of the walls were solid mahogany and offered no chance at escape. "I know about what you've done, Jack. Testing your chemical warfare on helpless animals. On defenseless people, too. When did you start kidnapping the homeless, Jack?"

"Oh, Selina. You are putting me in a very sticky spot," his voice danced with false air. "Hand me what you are trying to steal from me," he extended his hand.

"Come here and take it," Jack took a step towards her and grasped his gun harder. "You won't win. Even if you do, it won't stop me from showing the pictures of your lab to the media."

"That's too bad," he smiled and his voice had a phony tinge of regret. "I guess your return is ending before it really got started." Two shots were fired from Jack's gun. The silencer masked them completely.

Selina took both. The force from the blasts knocked her out of the plate glass window. She never gave Ludlow the satisfaction of hearing her scream. She simply plummeted into the garbage below in complete silence.

Some time later Selina awoke in the dumpster, covered in her own blood. One bullet was lodged in her shoulder, and one had grazed her side. Jack's gun didn't scare her. He was a terrible shot. Grabbing the slender silver box next to her, Selina used the rest of her energy to push herself from the trash.

Wearing one shoe, her dress torn, glass imbedded in her back, and her bullet wounds bleeding immensely Selina made her way back to her black Jag. Glad again for Bruce, she was able to slip away overlooked, as every head was turned to his departure with Ms. Vale. Finding her car, Selina summoned what little she had left and made her escape.

The cat had lost its first life.


	2. Revenge Rendezvous

Title: Selina

By: Satine16

Disclaimer: None of the characters in the following story belong to me. They are all property of DC comics. I am not doing this for money so please do not sue me! 

Chapter 2: Revenge Rendezvous

The pale moon stared down on Gotham City late that night like the unnerving eye of the Cyclops. The city skyline against the pale orb was almost elegant amidst its drudgery. If one watched close enough, one would see the figure that moved between the rooftops, slinking silently like a cat.

Jack was smoking a cigar in his office, scrolling through some coded files as he went. A glass of brandy in finely made crystal rested on the very edge of the wide, mahogany desk. Hearing a soft thump on the roof, he turned and looked out the window. Seeing nothing, he looked around the room and slipped his hand under the desk. In one swift motion he removed his gun from its location underneath his desk, and with a steady hand placed it next to his notebook computer.

The house was silent.

The maid was asleep and the driver had gone home. The only light in the house was a mere glimmer that flickered in the hallway. His eyes fixated on the dancing light through the crack in his doorway for a moment, and feeling icy fingers run down his spine and his hair stand on end, Jack once again gripped his gun.

A small purr came from the doorway, and Jack hopped to his feet and pointed his gun. The door had been pushed open by a black cat, which now sat staring at him with wide yellow eyes. It meowed twice and just sat there staring at him.

"Fucking cat," Jack mumbled as he lowered the gun. Keeping eye contact with the animal for a moment, he noticed that it almost looked at him complacently. Stupid man and his ridiculous gun. "What the fuck are you lookin' at? Fuckin' cat," he spat and threw a paperweight at the beast.

It hissed and yowled and jumped onto the desk. Jack sat horrified as it landed directly on the notebook computer, closing the lid and shutting it down.

Black cats were supposed to be bad luck.

He looked up to the open doorway again this time to see a woman leaning against the doorframe. Her lanky body was pressed against the hard wood, and she was tapping a leather whip against her thigh. Her left arm was above her head and he stared, entranced, as she dug her nails into the doorframe and ran them down in one long motion.

Stepping into the light from the window he was able to make out her outfit. First came the shining, high-heeled leather boots, and shiny, matching black legs. As she continued to walk into the light he noticed her entire ensemble was black pleather, sleek and almost painful. The stitching was sloppy but it fit her perfectly. He raised his gun again as he knew what was coming next.

A mask. A mask with pointed ears, which covered the top half of her face. Before he could even lift his arms to aim, the gun was removed from his hands with the stinging bite of her whip.

"The papers say you're supposed to be dead," he murmured.

Her voice was syrupy and sultry when she finally spoke, "Kill me once, shame on you. Kill me twice…" she trailed off and smirked, her white teeth blaringly so against the black mask and red lipstick. Her pale fragments of skin glowed silver in the moonlight. Her cruel green eyes were surrounded by a heavy amount of dark black eyeliner.

The second snap of the whip cut Jack's thigh and groin, making him scream aloud.

She smirked.

"What do you mean, I've never…Selina?"

He fell back into his comfortable leather chair feeling light headed and gripping his desk for lack of anything else.

Taking three slow steps she leaned against his desk and stretched her back, and arms. In a flash she dug her nails into his hands and he yelped in pain.

"Someone will hear me…" he gasped.

"No. There's no one to listen."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to die, Jack."

He looked completely terrified now. His eyes were large and watery and his bottom lip had started to quiver. She removed her nails from his hands, leaving ten distinct wounds: five bloody sores in each hand.

Reaching over the computer and removing the USB port, she called her cat and slipped it around his neck.

"Take this for Mommy, Isis," she smiled, opened the window and allowed the cat to escape.

"You, Bitch," he lunged at her and tackled her, trying to bring her to the ground. However, she caught the edge of the desk, gained leverage, and flipped him onto his back. She pressed the pointed heel of her boot into his shoulder, pressing and twisting, until she heard it pop and he screamed as his arm slipped from the socket.

She smiled. Her heels clicked against the wood as she held his eyes with her own. Gingerly she stepped, crisscrossing her feet over his body. Standing over him, her foot on either side of his incapacitated torso, she just watched him writhe and spit. Vile man.

Bending down to his level she pressed her chest sensually against his.

"What's wrong, Jack? Cat got your tongue?"

He looked up at her silent and stoic, waiting. She shrugged once and bringing down her right arm, slit his throat. The motion was so violent that it almost tore out his throat. One small, bloody gurgle and Jack was dead.

Selina moved swiftly through the office, emptying the vault underneath the picture and setting three small cat shaped statues throughout the house.

Flipping the lock on the large picture window, she slipped out soundlessly, glancing one last time at Jock's dead, bleeding body.

Hopping from rooftop to rooftop she finally perched a few buildings away. With a soft purr and a few quiet steps Isis crawled onto the buildings ledge. Nuzzling her arm and releasing a meow he offered the USB port. Taking it in her hands, Selina smiled and petted her companion. Reaching under her glove she removed a sleek remote control and pressed the solitary button. With three loud booms, Jack's empire had faded.

Turning on her heel, Selina quickly scampered away, floating above the rooftops and traveling towards the police station.

"Catwoman," the voice behind her was deep and gruff.

"Hello. How long did it take you to find me?" She didn't need to turn around to know to whom the voice belonged.

Slowly, Selina turned over her left shoulder. Lifting her chin to the moonlight, she smiled a seductive, closed lipped smile.

His figure stood statuesque in the moonlight. The moon gleamed silver against his dark form, highlighting the ripples of his muscles. His jaw was tensed and his cape fluttered behind him in the gentle night breeze.

"I was just heading to Gordon's to deliver a…present," she stepped towards him.

"I'll take it."

"Enjoy," she handed him the USB port.

Smirking to herself, she traced her sharp nails over the rippling body armor stopping just at the base of his abdomen, before the bulge in his pants. Looking up to his face she stopped for a moment, allowing her hands to linger and enjoying watching him watch her.

They're eyes locked for a moment. She had forgotten how piercingly blue they were. How determined and sad. And familiar, although she didn't know why.

She inched closer to his unflinching frame and leaned in. Slowly, she traced her tongue around the borders of his lips in soft lines. Pulling away she looked back into his eyes. He hadn't moved. He hadn't flinched. But his eyes had changed. Something was different.

It lasted only a moment. Quickly, he placed the USB port in his belt and leapt off the edge of the building. She watched as his black cape billowed for a few moments and he vanished into the blackness of the city.

"I missed our little visits," she called after him. Isis meowed. Smirking and shrugging to her pet, she began to back flip across the flat rooftop. Using her arms to springboard from the edge of the roof she leapt of the building feet first and pointed and her arms stretched out above her in a V shape. Isis followed her, meowing once, almost scolding her theatrical flare as he crept down the fire escape.


	3. Interlude

Title: Selina

By: Satine16

Disclaimer: None of the characters in the following story belong to me. They are all property of DC comics. I am not doing this for money so please do not sue me! 

Chapter 3: Interlude

Her feet hit the balcony soundlessly. Looking over her shoulder and stretching her limbs she entered through the large glass door.

The entire wall of her apartment was glass, designed by LuthorCorp, and she loved it. The pale moonlight poured into the vast room and made everything glow a dreamy white color.

Selina disappeared into her bedroom and returned wearing an amethyst colored satin robe, her bare feet making noise against the hardwood floors. She had messily wrapped up her pale hair in an up-do and the lace from her nightgown peeked through the falling shoulder of the robe.

Lifting a crystal carafe, Selina poured herself a glass of scotch and dropped two ice cubes into the small glass.

Isis had made himself at home on the overstuffed, golden pillow on the edge of the couch. Her old assistant, Mercy, didn't quite understand why she had named a male cat after a goddess, but Selina just stuck to her guns, never answering. She never admitted that she had bought the cat before she'd been 'reborn' and, at that time, didn't know it was a boy until after the cat had grown accustomed to the name. Typical Selina before the change. Before she opened her eyes to the world.

Padding over to her answering machine Selina hit the round green button. The automatic woman's voice kicked on as she pressed it.

"You have five new messages."

"Message one: Selina, this is Jenny. You fired me today because I didn't get your dry cleaning on time," Selina took a large swig of her drink at the sound of this girl's high pitched and bubbly voice, "I'm just calling to say that I left the key on your dresser and that Mercy will be returning in the morning. Sorry for everything. Bye, now."

"End of message," the machine droned on.

"Message two: Selina, it's Mercy. You've canned five girls in three days. You got rid of one before you even hired her," Selina laughed aloud, "I'm coming back tomorrow morning. You really are back in Gotham. Wow. I thought it was gossip until I heard that some crazy, compulsive blonde lady was hiring and firing left and right. See you at eight."

"End of message."

"Message three: Ms. Kyle, this is Ronald with the Gotham Wildlife Reserve calling to thank you for your generous donation. The snow leopard habitat can be remodeled now, like we all had hoped. Thank you again. We sent a complementary gift basket in the mail. Again, thank you.

"End of message."

Selina swirled her fingers in her drink methodically, clinking the ice cubes against the glass. She rolled her eyes as the next message began and let Isis lick the small amount of liquor off her first and second digits.

"Message four: Gotham Lady Perfume, for the true lady within you. Available at Nordstrom, Maybelle's, Macy's and Grindly's. Try it today, Discover the elegance within."

"End of message."

Selina and the Isis looked each other in the eyes dryly.

"Message five: Selina, hi. It's Bruce," Selina sat up straight and the cat lifted its head and perked its ears, "It was nice running into you the other night. I know, it's late and you won't get this tonight, but I wanted to call and see if we could do dinner sometime. Hopefully, this is still your number. Call me tomorrow. I'll be in my office from ten to two. If you can't catch me then I'll have the phone on in the car. Have a good night."

"End of messages."

His voice was cheerful. Almost airy. And entirely welcome.

Smiling at Isis Selina sipped her drink and stroked him gently between the ears.

"I guess they weren't all a complete waste of time."

The cat purred sweetly.


	4. Freshwater Pearls

Title: Selina

By: Satine16

Disclaimer: None of the characters in the following story belong to me. They are all property of DC comics. I am not doing this for money so please do not sue me!

Chapter 4: Freshwater Pearls

Madeline Jacobs was Gotham City's most well known socialite, next to Bruce Wayne. She always threw gala events that surpassed all others, making it her duty to outdo even her last party. The liquor always flowed, the music always blasted and the guests were always happy.

"Brucey! Over here darling! How are you?" Madeline scampered over to her guest bubbling like the glass of champagne perched in her left hand. "Kiss, kiss," she cooed as she kissed both his cheeks.

Smiling politely, Bruce sighed down at Madeline. She was only five foot three. Her face and body had been altered so many times that he barely recognized the girl he had known in college. Madeline had undergone a grand total of procedures including: a facelift, an eyelift, a nose job, liposuction, collagen injections in her lips, botox injections, breast implants, extensions of the life, love and head lines in her palm, shortening of her middle toes, and porcelain veneers. The mousy girl, first in her family to be rejected by the Kappa Alpha Theta house at Princeton, quickly learned that only beauty can buy you everything. (And if your family has enough money, you can even buy beauty.) From her seven hundred dollar highlights to her three hundred dollar pedicure, Madeline was finally the woman the Jacobs family really wanted her to be.

"Who is this delightful treat?"

"Madeline Jacobs, this is my good friend Diana Prince."

"Diana," Madeline oozed her name and kissed her on both cheeks just as she had Bruce.

Moderately appalled, Diana did her best not to let it show on her face.

"Well, I must mingle," turning to whisper to Diana, "And if I stay still too long the press will start saying I got another nose job or some such nonsense. Hahaha!" her laughter rang out in Diana's ear deafeningly.

Once Madeline was out of earshot, Diana turned to Bruce and whispered, "That woman…"

"Has her share of problems. Madeline's heart is always in the right place. Look around, she's already raised three million dollars for the NICU at Central."

"I suppose…"

"Want a drink?" he smiled and kissed her softly at the base of her neck.

"Yes."

Taking his arm, the couple sauntered over to the bar.

"What'll it be tonight, folks?" the friendly bartender with blonde hair and straight teeth approached.

"Two glasses of champagne," Diana said firmly. Bruce turned to her slightly and raised his eyebrows. "You need to drink champagne at a party like this. One glass won't kill you."

Taking his flute in his large hand, Bruce tinkled the glasses together and spoke softly, "Cheers!"

"Cheers," she whispered and placed the crystal to her painted lips.

As the liquid touched their lips the press outside began to roar.

"Ms. Kyle, why did you return to Gotham?"

"How long do you intend to stay?"

"Sources saw you speaking with Bruce Wayne at Ludlow's Black and White Ball…any comment?"

"Ms. Kyle!"

"Ms. Kyle, over here!"

"Picture, Ms. Kyle?"

The vultures were eating up Selina's mysterious return. The press was almost as loud about her arrival as they had been about Bruce and Diana. The Page Six rumors about their affair and supposed engagement began to circulate again: this time with a tie that she fled Gotham to escape the nasty break up.

"Selina!" Madeline sang out as her guest entered the parlor.

"Bruce?"

"Hmmm? Oh, sorry, Diana."

"I was talking to you."

"I'm sorry. I was somewhere else," Bruce stopped craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Selina.

"I can tell. I'll be back in a few minutes. Senator Thompson is here and I want to discuss his environmental policies for a few minutes."

"Have fun," Bruce smiled and leaned against he bar as she walked away. Taking another sip of his champagne, he smirked as he heard her rich, alto voice begin the introductions.

"Well, well, well…look what the cat dragged in…Absolut, neat."

Selina rested her beaded bag on the bar took a perch next to Bruce. Looking him up and down in his tuxedo she chuckled, "You seem to be wearing the same thing every time I see you lately, Bruce."

"I certainly can't say the same to you. You look phenomenal."

"I know," Selina smiled as she took a sip of her vodka.

She was dressed head to toe in white. Her immaculate blonde hair was pulled up into a loose bun reminiscent of the 1940's, with rippled waves along her head and a small amount of hair falling over her left eye. Her make-up was shimmering and angelic from the rice paper color on her eyes to the pale pink of her lips. Her strapless, white cocktail dress was covered with beautifully embroidered white stitching and ended just above her knee. Her long muscular legs ended in a pair of strappy, white crocodile Jimmy Choo shoes. On her right wrist were long strings of freshwater pearls, making everything seem that much more decadent.

"I see you traded in the walking breasts for Xena the Warrior Princess."

"Her name is Diana."

"She has quite the build," she scoffed, taking another sip of her drink and eyeing Diana viciously.

Diana stood with her champagne flute poised in her hand, smiling. Her dark skin seemed completely flawless and smooth like silk over her rippling muscles. She was wearing almost no make-up, and her endlessly long, radiantly dark hair was left loose in cascading waves. Her cocktail dress came just to the knee and was cinched at the waist. The fabric flowed from a backless halter through to the full skirt in what appeared to be seamless ripples. Selina couldn't help but notice that her voice was sickeningly pleasing, as were her sapphire blue kitten heels.

"Selina?"

"What?" she whipped her head back to him and asked bitingly.

"You never called me back. I can't go out with you when you don't call me back," Bruce laughed a little at Selina's silence.

"I have to go take care of something."

"Selina?" he called after her as she walked across the room. Smiling over her shoulder, Selina wiggled her fingers at Bruce and blew him a kiss.

Bruce sighed as he watched her go and Diana approach.

"Who was that?"

"Selina Kyle."

"Oh, I see. THE Selina Kyle."

"The one and only," he shrugged and took the last few sips of his drink.

"What are we doing here, Bruce?" she asked placing her drink on the bar and locking his eyes into her own.

"What do you mean?"

"This. Us. Whatever this is."

"I don't know."

"It's not going to work out."

"I realized that awhile ago."

"I see."

They stood in silence for a moment.

"Are you going to say it or am I, Bruce?"

He looked up at her and raised his eyebrow, seeming a little pissed off.

"Clark was right, " she said defeatedly.

Taking a deep breath and sighing hard, he huffed, "I hate that."

"I know…so, let's prove him a little bit wrong then. Finish out the night as friends?"

Smiling, Bruce nodded once and Diana wandered over to continue her political crusade. Standing up to his full height, Bruce began to look for Selina with no success.

She was upstairs with Madeline's husband.

"You see Victor, part of the reason I had to go to Metropolis was to straighten out my financial situation."

"Oh?" the older man asked softly and with a gulp.

"Seeing as you were my accountant for years I assume you would know why."

"Selina, I…"

"You were stealing from me, Victor. Millions."

Victor Van de Waulk was over sixty and the husband of Madeline Jacobs. He sat in his large leather desk chair, opposite Selina. She was perched on the other side of the desk her beautiful legs crossed and running on for what seemed like forever.

Rising from her seat, Selina spoke again, "I trusted you, Victor."

"I know. I'm so sorry, Selina."

"Don't be sorry, Victor. Fix it."

"I can't."

"You don't have a choice in the matter."

Slowly, Selina sauntered over to Victor, and placing her legs on either side of him, lowered herself onto his lap.

"Selina…"

"Shhh…" she placed her index finger to his soft, wrinkled lips.

Carefully, she undid the clasp of her bracelet and unwound the pearls from her wrist, exposing the naked flesh of her arm. Taking her time, she carefully rewrapped the pearls over her knuckles as she rocked her hips back and forth over his.

"Now, Victor…"

"Yes?" he choked, his eyes closed to her.

Carefully she picked his navy blue suit coat off the desk, and placed it on backwards, her arms through the sleeves and the back covering her dress. Swiftly, Selina brought her fist to his face, cracking his nose with the blow. Most of the blood landed on the suit coat due to the trajectory of the hit.

"Get me my money," she spat violently.

He sat holding his nose, while she removed the pearls from her hand as carefully as she had the first time. Dipping them into the water pitcher on the end of the desk, she cleaned Victor's blood from her pearls.

Replacing them on her wrist she left Victor sobbing in his office.

"Fascinating party, Madeline. Must run! Chao!" Selina smiled and air kissed the hostess as she exited the party, walking in one straight line from Victor's office, out the front door, and into the white Rolls Royce with Mercy in the back seat.

The next day two headlines tore across the front pages of the papers and magazines of Gotham City.

VICTOR VAN DE WAULK ASSUALTED IN OWN HOME: POLICE HAVE NO LEADS

BRUCE WAYNE AND SELINA KYLE REKINDLE OLD FLAME: INSIDE THE FIGHT TO KEEP THEIR LOVE AFFAIR PRIVATE


	5. Taste of You

Title: Selina

By: Satine16

Disclaimer: None of the characters in the following story belong to me. They are all property of DC comics. I am not doing this for money so please do not sue me!

Chapter 5: Taste of You

The deep notes of the doorbell in Wayne Manor resonated against the mahogany wood of the building.

"Hello, Ms. Kyle," Alfred greeted Selina with a small smile and a nod.

"Hello, Alfred. How have you been?"

"Just fine. Won't you come in?"

"I would love to…"

"Alfred, who's at the door?" Bruce asked as he descended the sweeping staircase towards the front door. He had on a pair of pressed khakis, shiny brown loafers, and a snug fitting blue polo shirt. In one hand he carried a steaming mug of tea and in the other, the morning paper.

"Ms. Kyle, sir."

"Selina?" Bruce smiled his famously seductive white smile.

"Hello, Bruce," Selina stepped into the hallway, taking off her wide brimmed black hat and large dark sunglasses. She wore a black sheath dress with a pair of closed toed black pumps and her pale hair was secured in a tidy, low ponytail. Underneath one arm was tucked a sleek, long, black clutch and her copy of the morning news. "I see I caught you just in time."

"In time for what exactly?" he asked, smiling wider and taking a few steps towards her.

"The morning news."

"Ah, yes. The attack last night," he said glancing at his paper.

"No, Bruce. We're dating again," with a flick of her wrist Selina opened the paper underneath her arm and revealed a picture of the two of them from the party the night before along with the headline TOGETHER AGAIN.

"Why don't you come in and sit down?" Bruce extended his arm toward the front room.

Selina's shoes clicked against the hardwood floor as she made her way over to the cream colored couch next to the window. The large, old-fashioned windows simply threw sunlight over the entire room, giving everything an overtly pleasant air.

"Will you be needing anything, sir? Miss?" Alfred asked hovering in the doorway.

"Coffee, Selina?" Bruce asked.

"Nothing for me. Thank you, Alfred."

"My pleasure, miss. It was very nice to see you again," Alfred smiled and gave a nod of his head.

"You too," Selina smiled as Alfred turned and walked away. The smile quickly turned to a raised eyebrow as she turned back to the smirking Bruce.

"It's not like I told them to print that, Selina. On top of which, is the idea so abhorrent you need to grimace?" he joked placing his mug and paper on the coffee table and leaning against the large mantle of the fireplace.

"No. It's just…you're a very frustrating man, Bruce," she rose from her perch, leaving her things on the couch and walked over to him. As she approached he straightened his posture and squared his shoulders to her. Cautiously, she used her beautifully manicured nails to brush the hair out of his eyes.

"Is that so?" his voice was soft and he trailed the tips of his fingers over the backs of her exposed arms as he inched closer, finally resting his hands on her bent elbows as she rested her palms on his muscular chest. "Have dinner with me."

"When?"

"Tonight."

"Alright. I might as well get some expensive dates out of this 'relationship' we're in. Where?"

"Alfred will pick you up."

"Mercy can drive."

"French?" he said with a chuckle.

"Italian."

"Pomodoro?"

"Roberto Passon."

"Nine o'clock?"

"Eight, and be on time."

"I will," he kissed her softly and for only a moment. In the next instant she was gathering her things and headed for the door.

"Have a wonderful afternoon, Alfred."

"You too, miss," Alfred smiled and opened the front door. In a few brisk strides with her long, smooth legs, Selina slid into the backseat of her Rolls Royce and drove away.

"Eight o'clock, Alfred. I need reservations at Roberto Passon," Bruce spoke quickly as he began to take the stairs two at a time.

"Very good, sir."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That night the sky was cloudy and the inky blue color of the evening attempted to seep through the purple haze which shrouded it.

"You're on time?" Selina joked as she stepped out of her car.

"Of course," Bruce smiled and offered her his hand.

"You look amazing, Selina."

Her long, pale hair was left shimmering and loose down her back, and her eyes were lined with clean crisp black liner and highlighted with shimmering champagne eye shadow. Her lips were painted a subtle glistening pink. Fastened at her throat with a glittering broach, was a blood red wool cape, which came to her knee and hid her skirt from view. Her peep toe shoes were the same shade of red, and shiny patent leather.

"Thank you. You clean up alright, yourself."

His dark hair was combed neatly and he wore a black Armani suit. The night air was biting and cold so he wore his long, dark grey, wool coat. A long white cashmere scarf hung loose over his neck and his blue eyes were sparkling.

"Mr. Wayne. Ms. Kyle. Hello. May I take your coats?"

Bruce helped Selina with her cape and handed off both coats to the doorman.

"You're staring, Wayne."

"Can you blame me?"

Underneath her cape Selina was wearing a silk dress of the same deep red color. The bodice was hard and formed to her slender shape and small waist like a corset with a heart shaped neckline and the skirt was a tight pencil with a sharp slit in the back and ended at her knee. Around her neck she had fastened a delicate diamond choker, which matched her solitaire earrings.

"Shall we?" he offered her his arm as the maitre'd approached. With a smirk she took his arm and they walked towards their table.

"The best table, sir."

"Thank you," Bruce smiled and helped Selina with her seat.

"Anything to drink, madam?"

"We'll start with a bottle of Dom Perignon Rose."

"Excellent," the waiter shuffled away.

"So, I guess we're here again," Selina smiled and took a sip of her water.

"I suppose we are." He paused a moment, "Selina…"

"Don't, Bruce. At least not until the liquor gets here."

It didn't take them long to find their old niche. It was a comfortable place in between jovial laughter and mutually appreciated silence.

"He must have been so confused. Poor Alfred," she said with a laugh and took a sip of her champagne.

"I don't know what I would do without him."

"I do. You'd get away with everything you pleased," she smiled genuinely and locked eyes with Bruce. They held one another's gaze for a few moments, but Selina broke away. Lifting her spoon in her right hand and resting her left on her napkin, she took a bite of her desert.

Slipping his hand underneath her own unguarded one, Bruce lifted her slender fingers to his lips. She watched him carefully as he did so. Resting both of their hands on the table, Bruce didn't pull away. He held her hand gently and tenderly grazed his thumb over the smooth skin on the back of her hand.

Outside the wide pane glass window next to their table, the dense clouds were set ablaze with the light of the bat signal in the sky. White against the endless grey. The Blackberry in Bruce's suit coat pocket began to ring.

"It's Alfred," he said, looking at the screen.

"Take it."

"I won't be long," he insisted, walking towards the front door of the restaurant.

"Master Wayne, there seems to be…a problem."

"Yes, I see can see that. I'll be out in five minutes."

"Very good, sir."

"Start the car."

"Already waiting."

"I mean the other car."

"So do I, sir. Already headed to the station."

"Oh. Excellent."

"Sir…might I ask…how is the date going?"

"Well. I'll be out in five," his tone grew short.

"Very good, sir," Alfred said goodbye, his voice smiling.

Bruce rushed back to the table, his coat in hand, "Selina, I hate to run, but…"

"The lovely lady had to run, but says thank you for an excellent evening."

"I see. I must be going then."

"Mr. Wayne!"

"Yes?"

"There is the matter of the check," the waiter stood tall and prim in his tuxedo holding out a small leather book.

"Oh, yes. Right. Let me have that," opening the book and pulling out a pen Bruce scribbled a series of numbers down on the paper and signed the bottom. "Use this account number please. What's a good tip? Two thousand?"

"Mister Wayne, I…"

Bruce scribbled a two thousand in the tip line and placed the book back in the waiter's hands and dashed out the door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

An hour later, and miles away from the restaurant in what seemed like an entirely different world, the Batman roamed the empty emergency ward of a struggling free clinic. The whole place smelled like copper and moldy cold cream. Blood and Clayface.

Gordon had told him that the clinic was missing basic tools. Simplistic devices that could be used in shoddy plastic surgery. He only left behind one survivor. An eighteen year old girl. She was the one who called the police.

"Why are you here?" his voice so rough it was as if he drank glass shards.

"What happens if I say I want to help?"

Collecting some glass fragments and blood evidence from off the black and white linoleum floor, Batman stood to his full height and turned to greet his company.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Aww…not even if I offer to scratch an itch for you," she purred as she carefully maneuvered her tall black boots around the mess on the floor. Effortlessly, she seemed to navigate the tiles and rest her small feet on clean spots.

"Tell me something. Why were you near Ludlow's the day that he died?"

"Miss Kitty has to stretch her legs," she smirked as she arrived next to him.

He stared down at her with eyes that pierced her body like painful x-rays.

"I was just in the area. No harm, no foul. I promise."

"Forgive me if I don't blindly accept your promises," there was something she found irresistible in the depth and the friction in his voice.

"I missed you," she cooed as she leaned in towards him. Slowly she raised her hand toward his face, but as she got close he grabbed her by the wrist and stopped her with a motion she barely noticed. "You haven't changed."

Leaning in to him she pressed her lips against his and stayed locked for a few moments. He responded enough to allow her to slip her soft tongue in his mouth a bit, just to tease the tip of his tongue. He still had a firm grasp on her wrist, and he showed no sign of letting go. Breaking away a bit she sucked on his full bottom lip and placed her free hand on his abs. All at once she bit down, hard on his lip and dug her claws deep into his side. He released her arm and bent over due to the pain in his side. She was able to snatch a batarang as well as a smoke bomb for herself and trigger another bomb. As quickly as she had appeared, she was gone.

He had let her go. There were more important things to do tonight, and he was honestly intrigued for her to make her next move. Sitting on his knees as he removed the last of the claws she had left in his side, he wiped the bright red blood away from his lip. She was up to something.

Bathing herself in the silver moonlight, Catwoman smiled and stretched languidly. Looking down at her hand she noticed she had lost a few claws in the scuffle. In one smooth motion, she used her middle finger to wipe away the blood he had left on her lips.


	6. Clay and Water

Title: Selina

By: Satine16

Disclaimer: None of the characters in the following story belong to me. They are all property of DC comics. I am not doing this for money so please do not sue me!

Chapter 6: Clay and Water

Methodically, Catwoman traced the edge of the building with the grace of a tightrope walker. Prowling back and forth along the same ten feet, her rhythmic breathing held the same hum as a purr.

"You're late," she spun on her heels and snapped.

"Deal with it," his speech was lethargic, and the stench of his skin reminded her of dried, crusted makeup.

"Did you get the stuff?"

"Yeah. Now where's my end?" he asked, locking eyes with her as he spoke.

Pulled up to his full height, the man deemed Clayface was a hulk. His gargantuan features were shrouded by a continually oozing river of muck but his eyes…his eyes were still very human. They were green, and she couldn't help noticing the way that they danced along the leather-clad curves of her figure hungrily. The sparkle in his eyes told her just how badly he wanted her.

"Here, Hagan," she tossed him the bag, "everything you asked for."

"Here's yours," the bag released from where he had been storing it within his skin. Slowly, he squeezed it from his left arm, and left it in a blob on the tar of the roof.

"A little sloppy, don't you think?" Selina hissed.

"It's what you wanted, isn't it?" he roared.

"Temper, temper," she whispered as she sauntered towards him, wagging her finger. "You don't want to upset me, Matty and ruin your chances now, would you?" She groped and danced her fingers over the air in front of him, her hands close enough for him to feel her through the subtle shifts in the breeze. Carefully, he felt her stroke his chest through the ripples on the night air. She felt him draw a deep breath. He would have licked his lips were it an option.

Startlingly fast, Selina grabbed the filthy bag and pounced back to the edge of the roof. "Later, darling. I'll let you know. Tonight, I have some things to take care of," in an instant she was gone.

Hagan stood alone on the roof a moment. The silent night breeze of Gotham City still held the lingering scent of jasmine and oranges.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Bruce, I've decided that you have to make all our dates like this from now on," Selina smirked as she examined the freshly manicured, pink nails on her right hand.

Wayne Tech was working out a deal with a company based in Hawaii, and in the interest of closure, Bruce flew to them on a private jet, and hosted a party on a luxury cruise liner. The party was meant for the executives and their wives, and Bruce brought Selina along to keep him company.

Selina sat sipping a mimosa on a lounge chair on the deck. Her bathing suit was a crisp, bright white, which matched the frames of her wide sunglasses and the sling-back, peep-toe pumps that she wore. Her legs were stretched out comfortably in front of her, left leg crossed over the right, allowing the wide slit in her jungle green sarong to fall away and exposing what seemed to be a mile long stretch of smooth, ivory skin. A large white linen sunhat shielded her from the golden sun, creating a seductive slope across her face.

"I need to be careful. I could get used to this lifestyle," she cooed, slipping her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and looking up into Bruce's startlingly blue eyes.

"Would that be so bad?" he chuckled. His dark, tan skin seemed to blaze against the pale colors of his attire. He wore a pair of pressed, white linen pants and a thin, ice blue button down shirt, which he left open revealing the beautiful, chiseled flesh of his abdomen.

"I'm not expecting anything from you, Wayne," she said, her tone only bordering on playful.

"I see," he lowered himself nimbly onto the edge of her lounge chair. "You look stunning, in case I haven't told you."

"You have, and I know," she smiled a small half smile and removed her sunglasses.

"I'm glad," he whispered, his voice husky. Slipping underneath the wide brim of her hat, he kissed her softly. She returned his kiss deeply, slowly draping her arms around his neck and pressing her body tightly against his and feeling his hand graze up her exposed leg.

"Mister Wayne?" a small, dark skinned, man with glasses called from the end of the deck, abruptly ending their kiss.

"I have never wanted to care less about my company," he smiled at her and hung his head a bit.

"I'm not going anywhere," she leaned back into her armchair and slipped her sunglasses back on.

"That had better be a promise," he joked as he stood up. "What can I do for you, Mr. Tenakah?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Alfred, tell Dick and Barbara to take care of things. Selina and I are going to spend the night on the boat," Bruce stood barefoot, out on the deck, taking in the scenery.

"Jolly good, sir." Bruce didn't have to see him to know that he was beaming.

"Good night, Alfred."

"Good night, sir," Bruce hung up his cell phone just as the captain approached. He was a stout older gentleman, with a full grey beard and a kind face.

"Mr. Wayne, all things are clear, the crew and I are ready to circle the island this evening and then head back for port in the morning."

"Thank you, Captain. Can you please have someone bring champagne and strawberries to my room?"

"Yes, sir," the old man smiled before walking away.

Leaning against the railing for a moment, Bruce closed his eyes. The smell and feel of the salty air against his skin was a welcome change to the smog and waste of the Gotham City rooftops.

"Penny for your thoughts," Selina murmured as she strolled up beside him, wearing her pajamas. Her blond hair fell in waves over her shoulders, and she wore a navy blue satin robe, cinched at the waist, with matching high-heeled slippers.

"It's peaceful here."

"Paradise is peaceful," her voice dripped with sarcasm and she raised one eyebrow, "it's good you inherited all that money."

Giving an exasperated sigh, Bruce turned to face her; "you owe me a lot more than a penny if you want better thoughts."

"What would a thousand get me?" she purred.

"Everything I've been thinking about doing to you since that kiss this afternoon," he moved closer to her, and brushed the windblown hair away from her eyes.

"Now that'd be worth it," her eyes danced over him covetously.

Placing his hands on her hips he lifted her effortlessly, and positioned her on the railing along the edge of the deck. Eagerly, he pressed his lips against hers, pulling her tightly to him and losing himself in the feel and smell of her.

She dangled perilously close to the water, and yet with the feel of his strong hands on her back she could not have felt more secure on her perch. Selina quickly wrapped her long, muscular legs around his torso and pulled him closer still. He flinched and pulled away from the kiss.

"What's wrong?" she asked with a note of concern in her voice.

"Rugby accident," he lifted the edge of his shirt to reveal a large bandage covering a good deal of his side and part of his back. "Took a cleat in the ribs. Not a big deal. I can work around it."

"You better," she whispered as she leaned in and kissed his neck.

Slipping his hands underneath her, Bruce lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. The large wooden door slammed behind them, leaving Selina's discarded slippers alone on the deck where they fell.

The room was vast and warm. The walls were paneled in a rich mahogany and the carpet was a vibrant red. The large, four-poster bed stood opposite the doorway and was covered in red and white linen bedding. One, slow moving, wooden ceiling fan attempted to circulate the salty air throughout the space.

Her feet came to rest on the carpet just inside the bedroom. With only a mere flick of his fingers, Bruce had untied her robe. It had fallen to her feet, leaving her standing in a matching navy satin chemise.

Finding his mouth with her own again, Selina let her hands creep slowly under his shirt and over the warm skin of his back and abdomen. The light fabric of his shirt fluttered to the floor as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Firmly, he placed his hands on her waist and pushed her into the wooden paneled wall. Slowly, she felt his hands slide up over her, through the thin layer of fabric. His hands ran smoothly over her arms, pressing them away from him and pinning them against the wall, as he began to explore her neck and chest with his mouth and tongue.

She let out a soft moan and arched her back, pressing herself against him as she wrapped her leg around him. Keeping her pinned a moment more, Bruce locked eyes with Selina. At times it was hard to hold his gaze, there was something so primitive about the way that he looked at her.

She felt his hands drift down her body and move over her legs and back up again pushing her nightdress higher and higher up around her hips. Lifting her just enough to graze over the floor, Bruce began to carry her towards the bed as Selina's hands crept down and undid his belt buckle.

Bruce again fell into the soft, pale skin around her collarbone, toying softly with the thin straps of her dress. In two swift motions Selina had discarded his white linen pants and had pushed the thin straps from her shoulders.

With one hand she pushed him backwards onto the bed, and lowered herself on top of him. Straddling him, she pressed her naked body against his bare chest and nibbled on his ear as she ran her fingernails over the skin just above his boxers.

Flipping her into her back, he smirked and kissed her quickly on the lips. Slowly, he trailed kisses down her neck, over her chest and slowly down her stomach. Using the leverage to her advantage, Selina flipped them again. Sitting on his chest, she smiled down at him and winked.

Placing his hands lightly on her hips, he scooted her forward. Slowly at first, she rocked her hips back and forth gaining speed with time. A while later, Bruce was reminded of just how loud she could be.

Smiling both happily and wickedly, Selina slid down, letting her hands roam over him and she went and pulling away the small, sole fabric barrier between them. Giving him another sly smile, she prepared to return the favor.

Instead, Bruce sat up and pulled her back towards him. He kissed her again, on the lips, yet this time there was something tender in his kiss. Playfully Selina nibbled on his lower lip pressed her weight against him, trying to push him back towards the bed. Bruce shook his head a little and leaned in to kiss her again, slowly and softly. Frozen a moment Selina simply stared at him. Carefully, she let her hand graze his left cheek. Lifting her hips slightly, he helped guide her onto his lap.

Again, she found herself staring deep into his eyes and again she tried to look away. This time however, he put his fingers underneath her chin and turned her to face him again. Gently, he tucked her hair behind her ear and put his arms around her. Slowly, she began to move her hips and together they found their rhythm.

The ceiling fan hummed as it turned. The strawberries sat in a pristine silver bowl, creating moisture on the gleaming dish. The green bottle of champagne dripped with sweat in the tropical heat.


	7. In Dreams

Title: Selina

Title: Selina

By: Satine16

Disclaimer: None of the characters in the following story belong to me. They are all property of DC comics. I am not doing this for money so please do not sue me!

Chapter 7: In Dreams

"Damn it!" Selina had broken her nail turning the key in the lock, and placed her bleeding thumb in her mouth as she put down her Louis Vuitton suitcase just next to the door. Briskly, she moved through her apartment, throwing her keys on the end table in the living room, kicking off her pumps, and pouring herself a tumbler full of brandy.

"Mercy!" she called as she fell into a large armchair and let down her hair. She quickly straightened the dark seams of her stockings along the backs of her calves and pulled her feet under her. The black pencil skirt she was wearing made her thighs seem like the upper portion of a dark mermaid's tail.

"Hi," Selina's assistant moved swiftly across the apartment carrying her dry cleaning. "How was your trip?"

"I slept with him," Selina sighed and took a large drink as her cat crawled up into her lap.

Stopping dead in her tracks, Mercy turned to face her boss and watched Selina pet Isis a moment before taking a seat on the couch across from her.

"And?" her eyes seemed especially wide behind her glasses.

"And what?" Selina snapped back.

"Don't fire me for saying this…" Mercy bit her lip.

"No promises," Selina smiled.

"He's in love with you."

"He doesn't know me," she stated, straightening her spine.

"Are you…?"

"In love with him?" Selina almost choked on her drink. "No."

Mercy sat a moment and watched her. Slowly one could see her interest melting away and turning to annoyance. Quickly, she hopped to her feet and walked towards the door. "I'm taking these things to the cleaners. I'll be back in a little while."

"Mercy!" Selina sounded exasperated and apologetic at the same time.

"Who are you waiting for?" her tone was biting as she whipped around.

"No one," she responded indignantly and rose to her feet.

"And Batman?" Mercy asked, almost sheepishly, as if with her boss's growth she remembered her place.

"What do you honestly think is going to happen? Do you think that I'm going to fall in love with Bruce Wayne, give up Catwoman, and live happily ever after?" Selina spat as if her words were poisonous chemicals.

Mercy was quiet a moment. "At least Bruce is more than just some strange ghost you meet momentarily on rooftops. He doesn't spend his free time roaming Gotham in pajamas. At least he's _real_," she paused a moment to catch her breath. "I'm almost sorry to tell you this. He sent some things over about twenty minutes ago. They're lying on your bed. Why not try being happy about it?" she looked at Selina only briefly before leaving.

Placing her tumbler on the small table next to her chair, Selina padded quietly into her bedroom. Sitting on top of her fluffy down comforter were two wide, thick rectangular boxes below one long, fat rectangle.

Selina sighed and bit her lip as she looked at them. As she approached the top box, Isis hopped up onto the bed.

"What do you think?"

Isis meowed in response.

"Oh, well."

Carefully, Selina removed the lid from the large top box. Inside there was a shining, gold envelope. Slipping the embossed card out, she read the text.

_You are cordially invited:_

_Gotham City's Once Upon A Dream Banquet_

_November, 10 2008_

_8:00 pm_

_The Aurora Ballroom_

_All proceeds go to Dr. Leslie Thompkins' Pediatric Health Center and _

_The Thomas Wayne Pediatric Research Hospital_

Hosted by The Wayne Foundation

Beneath the gold invitation she found thick, sapphire tissue paper. Slowly, Selina peeled it back and unveiled three-dozen Casablanca lilies. She and Isis exchanged looks briefly before she gently shifted the box off of the others.

Taped on top of the next box was a small silver envelope. Pulling it off, Selina read the small matching note card. It was scrawled with blue chicken scratch.

"Pick you up at seven. –Bruce"

Slowly, she slipped the large top off of the next box. This time she found pale pink tissue. Carefully, she undid the paper and her eyebrow arched steeply. She stared at Isis for a moment, who let out a small meow.

Lifting the gown from its box, Selina held it up to her body. It was strapless, emerald green silk, with a sweetheart neckline and a beautiful side drape. Holding it to her frame a moment in the mirror, Selina studied herself before carefully laying the dress out on her bed and turning to the final box. It had one final card, which matched the last. Tugging it off the box, Selina read the last note.

"Don't forget the final touches."

Removing the last box top, and underneath more pale pink tissue, Selina found a matching, floor length cape. It was made of the same emerald silk and it was cut in three large panels. Two in front and one in back, with slits for her arms. It had a stiff collar, and the upper portions of the cape were embellished with winding patterns of fine crystal, which trickled in a fading pattern down the panels. At the bottom of the box she also found a long, flat, emerald clutch.

"All I seem to be missing are the glass shoes," Selina sarcastically smirked to Isis, as she placed the cape on top of the gown.

Just then the doorbell rang.

"Delivery, ma'am," the young mail clerk smiled as she opened the door.

Signing quickly, taking her package, and slamming the door, she looked for the return the address on the front. There wasn't one. Ripping off the brown paper, she exposed a gold box with the white signature of Christian Louboutin across the top. Inside she found a pair of dark green, open toe, leather pumps. The toe was rouched and the top was tied into a small knot resembling a rose.

Against her better judgment, Selina smiled.

On the street below, a navy blue Rolls Royce drove toward the stoplight. Alfred glanced in the rear view mirror frequently since Selina's departure, watching Bruce closely.

"You seem distracted, sir," Alfred asked, a note of concern in his voice.

Bruce leaned heavily against his chin as he looked out the window and sighed.

"She's hiding something, Alfred."

"What do you mean?" his voice was curious.

"Selina has two recent gun shot wounds. One in her shoulder and one along her side."

"Oh, dear," Alfred gasped. "How did she…?" he couldn't hide the bewilderment in his voice.

"I have no idea."

Sitting up straight, Bruce tidied his charcoal gray suit coat and cranberry red tie before returning his gaze out the window.

For three blocks they rode in silence.

"I sent along those packages just as you requested last week, sir."

"Thank you," he replied without turning his head or changing his all too erect posture.

"That is still what you wanted…?" Alfred let his words hang in the air.

Six more blocks passed before another word was spoken.

"If it's not too bold of me…" Alfred began, seeming wary of his words, "You really care for her, don't you?"

Turning to meet his eyes in the mirror Bruce said definitively, "She's a liar, Alfred."


	8. One to Talia

Title: Selina

Title: Selina

by: Satine16

Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story belong to me. They are all property of DC. I don't do this for money please don't sue me!

Chapter 8: One to Talia…

The rich gold carpeting of the Aurora ballroom sparkled in welcome under the constant glimmer of the camera flashes. The press had gathered on both sides of the long welcome mat, snapping pictures of Gotham's finest as they approached in their gowns and tuxedos and climbed the marble steps leading into the ballroom.

Loud cries and intense blazes of light greeted Bruce Wayne as he arrived with his date for the evening, Dr. Leslie Thompkins. The miniature doctor looked lovely in an ink blue gown, her snow white hair tied into a tidy knot at the base of her skull.

"Oh, Bruce…" Leslie sighed. "Everything is just wonderful," her jaw dropped as she entered the ballroom.

The rich pink marble walls and columns of the ballroom shimmered in the glow of the wide golden sconces and large crystal chandeliers. In the center of the ballroom, a fresco marked the dance floor. The mural sparkled brightly and was made of inlaid gold upon the glistening pink marble. The image was one of a bright dawn, and the Greek God Apollo, charging forth in his chariot, his steeds wild and strong. Surrounding the beautiful floor mural, there were numerous immaculate tables decorated entirely in white with crystal and gold place settings. The melodious sounds of the string orchestra filled the room to the brim and many of the guests were already dancing.

"Wayne!" a husky voice called out jovially from behind.

Turning, Bruce smiled to see Oliver Queen approaching, with the exquisite Dinah Lance on his arm. Oliver wore a shawl-collared tuxedo, a pale green kerchief tucked in the breast pocket, and his dark blonde hair and goatee were trimmed tidily. Dinah wore her yellow blonde hair in loose tendrils around her shoulders. Her beaded, black, halter neck gown had a wide slit, exposing her toned leg to the hip as well as her strappy black heels.

"Queen," Bruce extended his hand and the pair shook. "Leslie, I'd like you to meet Oliver Queen and his…friend…" Bruce continued shooting a look of uncertainty at Oliver, "the lovely Ms. Dinah Lance."

Leslie smiled brightly at the pair and welcomed them to the party.

"I fully support your work Dr. Thompkins. In fact I've been working in Star City to make healthcare more accessible to children in need," Oliver began speaking rapidly.

"Oh, no…there he goes. Again," Dinah smiled and sighed as Oliver began discussing funding of Leslie's healthcare plan and broadening the spectrum of care, walking with the doctor on his arm.

"Would you like a drink?" Bruce smiled.

"Yes," Dinah's sweet soprano voice sounded slightly less exasperated as she took Bruce's arm.

Slowly, the pair descended the steps in the ballroom, the music swelling as they approached the dance floor. As the waiter marched by carrying a golden tray filled with champagne, Bruce lifted two glasses off seamlessly.

"Here you go," he smiled and handed her the bubbling beverage.

"Cheers," she smiled back and clinked her flute gently against his, before taking a small sip.

As Bruce went to place the glass to his lips he noticed a hulk of a man standing near the coat check, his legs spread in a wide stance and his thick arms crossed over his chest.

"If he's here, then where is…" Bruce thought darkly.

"…and you know Roy. I couldn't believe them, Bruce. It was…"

"Excuse me, Dinah," Bruce spoke distractedly and handed her his flute, wandering deeper into the room.

"Alright," Dinah arched one pale eyebrow as she watched her diverted friend. "You'd think I could keep a man's attention in this dress…" she muttered to herself as she finished her champagne and began drinking Bruce's.

"Where are you?" Bruce muttered the words to himself as he scanned the party. Slowly, the crowd shifted and parted and he saw her. She had been watching him the whole time.

She was perched, cross-legged, at one of the tables, alone, smoking a cigarette. Her black hair was tied into an intricate knot and secured with a glittering diamond barrette. She wore a blazing red, chiffon dress. The neckline was an intricate heart shape exposing the soft skin of her chest, and her right leg was exposed underneath the billowing fabric due to a sleek slit. Her long fingers and manicured nails reached her pristinely painted lips as she took a long drag of her cigarette. He walked toward her, holding her gaze. Dark liner and a thick fringe of lashes hooded her amber eyes. They were captivatingly beautiful, but deep within was the shine of a malicious, deadly secret.

"Talia," he greeted her, his voice gruff.

"Detective," she smirked and stood to meet him, dropping her cigarette into a goblet of water. Her voice was sweet and melodic, and Bruce found himself grinding his teeth. She was poisonous.

Everything about her was a façade, from her carefully arched brows, to her creamy almond skin; a carefully laid plan to seduce an unwitting opponent.

"Why are you here?"

"We seek no business with you. There is another with whom I wish to speak."

The rich notes of the Tanguera began in the orchestra, and Bruce offered his hand to Talia, "A dance?"

She grinned maniacally, and took his hand and his offer. Gracefully, the two began to glide through the other patrons.

"Who are you looking for?" he asked as he pulled her closer.

"That does not concern you, my love," she smiled as he turned her quickly.

"Talia, this is my city."

"Which is why my father sent me, as opposed to attending himself," her words were soft as she placed her hands on his chest and lowered herself into a deep plie.

Pulling her sharply back to his eye level, Bruce snarled, "Tell Ras too bad. Tell him I got in your way."

"I'm afraid that just isn't an option, my love."

As the last few notes of the tango rang out and Bruce flung Talia into a deep dip, holding her firmly by the small of her back with his right hand, and resting his left on the smooth skin of her thigh. She had pulled her leg up to rest against his body firmly.

"Leave…" he growled before lifting her again.

"Sorry, Detective," she smirked again as she walked away from him, vanishing into the crowd.

Outside the lights shone brightly on the edges of the sparkling gold carpet. Selina stepped carefully out of her car, thanking the willowy man who helped her out of the vehicle. Photographers from every direction called out to her and she smiled widely in return.

The flashes of the camera struggled fruitlessly to capture a fitting image. The emerald color Bruce had selected complemented her porcelain skin splendidly, and the beads of her cape glittered distinctly under the lights. She chose to sweep her pale hair up cleanly in a complicated set of curls and her makeup was in the manner of a renaissance painting; all of the colors soft and tinted with gold making her skin glow as if from a warmth within.

Bruce thought quickly as his eyes constantly scanned the room searching for Talia or Ubu. With a sharp pivot Bruce turned to face the stairs and stopped dead in his tracks. Selina stood at the top, beaming down at him in the gown he had sent to her. He smiled instinctively and climbed the stairs to greet her.

"Hello," he greeted her warmly.

"Hi," her voice was breathy and excited.

Bruce gave her his arm and the pair began to descend the stairs. "Would you like a drink? Can I take your coat?"

The smile on Selina's face faded as she caught sight of Talia across the room. Keeping her eyes on her opponent, Selina forced a smile and replied mechanically, "No. I'd like to look around. I'll take it myself and I'll find you again in a few minutes."

As Bruce watched her become distracted, his brow wrinkled and he ran his tongue against the back of his lower incisors. "Alright," he smiled and managing to add an air of lightness to his voice despite his skepticism.

Slowly, Selina made her way through the crowd and to the small booth. A thin, teenage boy sat inside playing with the tickets in his hands.

"Hello, there," Selina purred immediately grabbing the boy's attention with a seductive smile.

"One?" he smiled, embarrassed, as his voiced cracked.

"Yes," she handed him her cape tenderly. The boy left the small booth to head into the large, walk in closet behind him as Selina turned to leave. She walked directly into Talia's body guard Ubu, dressed entirely in black, his massive arms crossed over his barrel chest.

Startled at first, Selina gasped and smiled up at the cold, scarred face a foot above her own. Taking a deep breath, Selina made a snap decision. As her fist met his jaw she felt the skin over her knuckles split and a bone in her hand break. With a speed that belied his massive size, Ubu twisted Selina's arm and turned her around, forcing her to walk forward into a darkened space in the upper floor of the ballroom.

"Now, now, Ms. Kyle. Is that any sort of welcome for friends?" Talia's caramel voice trickled toward her from the shadows.

"What do you want?" Selina spat, writhing against Ubu's grasp.

"We simply want what we are due. Hold her steady," her voice was sharp as she spoke to Ubu.

Ubu held firmly onto Selina's arms as she kicked her legs in an attempt to break free. As Talia approached, Ubu twisted Selina's arm sharply, and she began to feel her bone splinter. Immediately she ended her struggle and stopped moving, except for a small wince.

"Bastard," she growled and spat.

"My father sends a message," Talia's voice was sickly sweet again. Raising one delicate hand to her barrette, she removed a slim gold dagger with a diamond handle leaving a shell of her barrette to hold her up do in place.

In one fluid motion, Talia plunged the dagger deep into Selina's abdomen and turned the blade. Her grin spread as the pain on Selina's face intensified and her blood ran forth.

Selina felt the blade leave her as quickly as it had entered. The pain was blinding, and with Ubu no longer supporting her weight, she fell to the floor.

"This was only a warning," Talia smiled as she cleaned the blade and placed the dagger back into her barrette.

With that the pair disappeared and Selina felt the sounds and smells of the room around her begin to swirl and fade. As the light from the chandeliers began to dampen she heard the voice of the young boy cry out to her, and then for help.

Heavy footsteps racing up the steps.

"Selina…" Bruce murmured as he rushed toward her.

Strong hands cradling her.

"It's going to be alright," his voice was steady.

She vaguely felt her cheeks and lips shift into the form of a smile before she blacked out.


End file.
